The Fires of Gehenna

This is my first sermon preached as the Pastor at Frazer Mennonite Church near Malvern, PA.

Sermon based on Mark 9:38-50

 

In today’s unsettling text from the gospel of Mark is the second in a series of three teachings in this part of Mark.  And it’s clear in this teaching that Jesus knows his disciples were not getting it. They did not understand what he had been saying all these years that they had been travelling together.

Now, each of the gospels portray Jesus a little differently.  And the gospel of Mark is known for portraying Jesus as impatient and cranky.  This gospel is also known for portraying the disciples as especially…slow to understand.

Jesus asked the disciples what they’d been talking about on the road, and the disciples sheepishly admitted that they’d been arguing about who was the best, most important disciple.  And as soon as they say this, they had to know that this would get them into trouble with Jesus.

Was Jesus prone to eye-rolling?  To exasperated groans? I don’t know, but if he was, this would have been a reasonable time to do that.  Because these disciples were dense. They were not getting the lessons Jesus was trying to teach them.

So Jesus reminded them of the important principle:  he said, “If you want to be first, you need to serve everyone.”

Can you hear the disciples agreeing with Jesus, maybe mumbling an apology to Jesus?  

Now Jesus,  not knowing how well they were understanding the message, decided to provide an example to them.  He brought a child into their midsts, pointed to the child and said, “If you can welcome a child, it’s like you are welcoming me”.  

You might imagine more nods and affirmations from the disciples.  But then John had to open his mouth. John, the beloved disciple, just had to go and insert a defense of himself into the conversation, as if he had not even heard what Jesus had been teaching.  “Jesus, guess what we did today? We saw someone that was casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he was not one of us. I’m still the best disciples, right Jesus?”

And this is where Jesus got angry.  “What are you doing, John!” Don’t try to stop this!  Anyone who does good in my name will be rewarded!”

And then Jesus turned to the disciples, “What are you doing? If you put a stumbling block or difficulty before someone less powerful then you, it’s better for you to die, than hurt one of these little ones.”

Jesus was not mincing words.  

And this is where we get into the part of the story where Jesus started talking about poking out eyes, cutting off limbs, and the fires of hell. Maybe some parents are wondering if there should be a parental guidance rating on this text.

So, what is Jesus talking about here?  

In order to understand what Jesus is saying we need to understand what hell is.  Some translations of this scripture say “hell” and others more accurately read “the fires of Gehenna.” When we read this text, we’re tempted to think of this as the hell you might believe exists in the life after this.  But the fires of Gehenna was an actual place that existed at the time that Jesus walked the earth. Jesus knew about it. The disciples knew about it.

Gehenna was a trash dump just outside of Jerusalem.  And it was in perpetual state of burning. It was a place where animals went to die, a place where people threw away things they didn’t want or need any more.  

Before it was a trash dump, it was believed to be a place where child sacrifices were made to pagan gods.  It was absent of life, of kindness, of anything good. It was a desolate, evil, lonely place.

Jesus was not talking about the afterlife here.  When Jesus is talking about hell in this text, he’s talking about a real place.  A place that no one wanted to go in this life.

It was also a place where Jesus would eventually go.  Gehenna, or hell, is believed to be right next to Golgatha, the place where Jesus would be crucified and die.  The Apostles creed says of Jesus, “He descended in hell”, He went to Gehenna–a real place. A place of death and fire. A place no one ever wanted to go, in this life or the next.  

After Jesus suggested that it would be better to die than to be a diversion to the powerless, Jesus entered into a speech about hell, the fires of Gehenna.  After telling the disciples not to be a stumbling block to those weaker than them, he instructed the disciples what to do when a stumbling block, a diversion, was placed before them.  

Jesus said–If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.  It’s better to have one hand then to have two and end up in the unquenchable fire, the fires of Gehenna.

It’s curious to me that Jesus went from telling the disciples not to put a stumbling block in front of the vulnerable, to talking about stumbling blocks put in front of the disciples.  It seems to me that Jesus was asking the disciples to put themselves in the shoes of the little ones, to understand what it might feel like to be turned away from what they seek. And Jesus seemed to be suggesting that if the vulnerable had a stumbling block placed in front of them, they ought to separate themselves from that, in order to be spared from hell.

Being away from the source of difficulty is better than being in hell, a place of human creation, and place that exists in real life, in real time, a place where nothing grows and where no one can live.  

I’ve been thinking about hell this week as I’ve heard women publicly and vulnerably disclose their assault stories.  Some of the things that women experience in trying to tell their stories are enough to send them right to hell, if they weren’t already there.  In this life, hell is a place where nothing can live, where hope cannot be found. And there are plenty of times when Christians, good Christian people, have been stumbling blocks and barriers to women who have disclosed abuse. They’ve said to those that have shared their stories, “That could not have happened” or “I don’t believe you” or “why are you telling me this now?”.  These Christians, in an effort to prove, like John, just how good they are, and how good their church is, have sent survivors into a hell of shame, of disbelief and of torment.

I have been thinking about my friend, who lived with Charlie and I for a time.  He had just come out of rehab, and needed a place to stay while he was getting his life back together.  One day when he came home from work, he begged me to stand in front of the door and not let him out. Hell was outside those doors, in the form of temptation and potential relapse.  He knew hell was a place that was lonely and isolated, and he did not want to go back there. Addiction was his stumbling block, and he needed help to stay away from the thing that would send him back to hell.   

I’ve been thinking about the hell of isolation and torment that our undocumented sisters and brothers face.  They are separated from their children, they are incarcerated, they are afraid, all because this country we live in sees them as a liability, a burden, rather than the beloved children of God they are.  

Historically humans are so good at sending each other to hell.  In this country, in our relationships, even in church. We humans have the ability to do great damage, even in an effort to be good people. 

I’ve met so many people that have been hurt by church, that have been disbelieved, that have been allowed to walk out the doors of the church feeling more alone than when they walked in, that have felt like a burden and a liability to their own faith community.  Maybe you are one of those people. Maybe you bring your own wounds with you when you walk into this space.

And Jesus told the disciples, and Jesus is telling us today, “This is not who we are. This is not who I am.  This is not what the church is supposed to be.”

In this text, Jesus instead calls the disciples to be salt.  And I don’t think Jesus is calling us to be flavor, although wouldn’t it be nice if the church could be more flavorful, more spicy even?  I think Jesus is referring to the medicinal uses for salt.

In the time of Jesus, salt was used to clean a wound, to heal the body.  In the time of Jesus, salt was used to clear out infection.

Instead of sending people to hell, to lonely places and spaces, we can  be the people that heal wounds and clear out infections.

That’s the kind of church I want for the world.  The church that heals wounds and clears up infections.  The church that welcomes brokenness and doesn’t make wholeness and purity a prerequisite for entry.  The church that sees everyone as a gift, from the very young, to the oldest member, sees everyone as beloved of God.  

That’s the kind of church God wants for the world.  It’s the kind of people Jesus asked his disciples to be.  Not the ones that are scrambling to be the best disciple, but the folks are willing to serve, the folks that commit to never put a stumbling block in front of others.  

Because this stumbling block is high stakes.  This stumbling block can send the vulnerable to hell, a place we humans have created, where there is no life, where it feels as if there is no hope and no healing.

We are disciples of Jesus, called to heal and to serve.  Let us be those people, for a world that need much more healing, and much less hell.  AMEN.